


Belonging

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Can be considered pre-destiel or friendship, Caretaker Dean, Cas Whump, Christmas, Chronic Pain, Dean Winchester doesn't talk about things, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester ships Sam and Eileen, F/M, Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Possibly Pre-Destiel, Sam Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Schmoopy schmoop at the end, hurt cas, tried to leave it open
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28301757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: (Sequel to chapter 21 of Whumptober: Chronic Pain)Cas faces a long recovery after his grace is cut out to power up Naomi. Now it's Christmas, and they're meeting Jody and the girls for a long weekend together. Cas has a chance to learn more about his condition, and Sam has a chance to ask a very important question...if Dean doesn't beat him to it.
Relationships: Castiel & Claire Novak, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Jody Mills & Dean Winchester
Series: Twelve Days of Fictmas 2020 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055069
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Belonging

**Author's Note:**

> The finale! You don't have to read the Whumptober chapter to understand this story, but it might give you more of a sense of what's going on.

There was a brief moment of disorientation as Dean woke up, but it passed quickly enough. He was still jammed into the backseat of his car, with Eileen behind the wheel and Sammy riding shotgun, and Cas stretched out across the seat next to him. Cas was sitting sideways on the seat behind Sam with his feet in Dean's lap, slumped against the door with his eyes closed. Dean rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch inconspicuously so as not to disturb Cas, and caught Sam's eye when his brother twisted around to check on him.

“You good?” Sam asked quietly. “We're about an hour out from the cabin.”

“I think my knees are permanently locked up,” Dean groused. “How long was I out?”

“Couple hours. Cas fell asleep just across the border.”

Dean glanced over at the man beside him. “Yeah, he's not asleep.”

One bleary blue eye opened to study him and Cas tried for a smile that came across more as a grimace. “I'm fine, Dean.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean pushed himself up a little straighter in the seat. “What's the number?”

Now Cas was definitely grimacing, and he shifted uncomfortably as Sam and Dean's attention was focused on him. “Six.”

Dean snorted. “Which means eight. You've gotta tell us when it gets bad, man.”

Cas closed his eyes and let his head rest against the seat again. Even in the dark of the interior of the car Dean could see that the former angel was uncomfortable. Arms tucked around himself, slightly hunched over in the seat, muscles in his calves so tight Dean could feel the spasming.

It had been nearly four months since that horrible day when they'd gotten the call. Some anonymous tip from some bastard angel under Naomi's command, informing them that Castiel had been stripped of his grace and needed assistant. Hell, they hadn't even known he was alive again...the last Dean had seen his (angel? Friend? Something else?) had been pulled away by the Empty in a last-ditch effort to stop Billie from killing Dean.

But at some point Jack had freed him from the Empty. They had remodeled heaven. Jack had been full of big, exciting plans and wanted Cas to remain in heaven for a little while, while the kid scoured the fragments of Chuck's alternate dimensions for a way to restore his grace.

Then Naomi happened. Naomi and some twisted, ancient magic that had her sacrificing Cas's grace to turn herself into an archangel. They'd caught him (apparently Cas wasn't the only angel Jack had brought back), tied him down, carved sigils into his back, and burned his grace right out of his body to power up super-bitch.

God (or Jack or whatever) he hoped the kid tore her in half whenever he got back.

Cas had been left wounded, graceless, and human to die of exposure in the middle of nowhere. If Anapiel hadn't had a crisis of conscience, or whatever angels had, he would have died without Dean even knowing he'd been alive again.

So here they were, the four of them packed into the Impala, headed for a cabin Jody had rented to spend Christmas with her and the girls. It was still difficult for Cas to travel, as he was frequently wracked by spasms of pain that left him weak and miserable, but he was determined to spend his first human Christmas with Claire. And Jody had promised soft beds, a big fireplace, and a Jacuzzi to help make the former angel more comfortable.

“I think I need to move,” Cas finally said, after a few moments of silence. They'd had difficulty treating his condition—the closest human ailment was fibromyalgia, or maybe some sort of rheumatoid arthritis, but the flare-ups of pain and stiffness were short and intense. Keeping his muscles and joints warm helped, and sometimes some light exercise relieved the horrible, cramping spasms.

Even though they were only an hour from their destination, Eileen turned off at the first place she found. “I've got him, Dean,” Sam said before climbing out of the car to help pull Cas out.

Cas really was doing better, it just didn't seem like it in moments like this. When Sam was practically holding him up as they made a couple of slow, painful laps around the car, Cas's face pinched in pain.

Eileen twisted in the seat to look back at Dean and for a moment he thought she was going to ask if he wanted to drive...but he must have looked as exhausted as he felt because she simply held up a thermos. “Coffee?”

He let out a deep, dramatic sigh and reached for the thermos. “You are a life-saver,” he announced. “If Sam doesn't marry you, I will.”

She giggled at that. “He bought a ring.”

Dean had the choice between spitting his coffee all over his car and the woman in front of him or swallowing it in one painful gulp. “He what?” he spluttered, pounding his chest where the coffee, somehow, seemed to be stuck on the way down.

“He thinks I don't know,” Eileen explained with a fond look to where Sam was gently leading Cas through some stretches.

“Hell,” Dean shook his head, took another swallow of coffee, and passed the thermos up. “Maybe I _should_ propose, just to give him the hint.”

Eileen laughed again and stowed the thermos in the front seat while Sam opened the back door to help Cas into the car. “What's so funny?” he asked.

“You,” Dean retorted.

“Real mature, dude,” Sam bitch-faced back.

Dean chuckled and settled back in the seat while Cas rearranged himself. Dean gave him a second to get comfortable, then pulled his legs back across his lap. “Feel better?” he asked, thumbs working at the cramped muscles in Cas's calves.

Cas nodded. He looked like that short trek around the car had exhausted him, but he also looked more relaxed than before. “My apologies for the delay.”

“Shut up,” Dean teased. He couldn't quite reach over to ruffle Cas's hair, so he settled with shaking the former angel's foot back and forth. “It's Christmas, Cas. You can have as many breaks as you need.”

Eileen was pulling back on the road as Cas leaned his head against the seat, studying Dean intensely. “And how many of these 'it's Christmas' excuses do I get?”

“It's Christmas,” Dean explained with a shrug.

“Dean...”

“C'mon, dude. Christmas.”

Cas switched tactics. “Sam, your brother isn't making sense.”

“He just means don't be afraid to speak up when you need something,” Sam replied.

“Spoilsport,” Dean couldn't reach Sam's hair, either, so he settled for tossing a balled-up hamburger wrapper at the back of his head.

Cas was smiling now—a tired smile, but a genuine one. “Sam, your brother is compensating for his inability to show affection again.”

“Well, Cas, that's just Dean being Dean.”

* * *

He'd been a little surprised that Jody had rented a cabin instead of having them all over to her house, or even packing them in to _her_ cabin...but Dean figured their family had gotten a lot bigger since the last time they were all together.

Jody was waiting for them, towel flung over one shoulder and a welcoming smile on her face. “Glad to see you, kiddo,” she said, pulling Sam into a hug. “How was the drive?”

“Not bad,” Sam shrugged. “Dean?”

“We're good,” Dean called. He'd already helped Cas out of the car and was holding his arm out, bent at the elbow, so the former angel could latch on for support. That little walking break they'd taken had probably done more good than they realized and kept Cas's body from locking up on him. Just a few months ago Sam or Dean would have had to carry him out of the car after a trip like this, and here he was walking under (mostly) his own power.

Jody met them partway, standing at the top of the stairs with her hands extended. Cas transferred his grip from Dean to Jody and carefully climbed up the steps to the cabin's wraparound porch, letting Jody steady and guide him up. “Good to see you again,” she said when he reached the top, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Claire and the others will be back in about an hour, do you want to rest until they get here?”

Cas nodded. _Better_ still wasn't _recovered_ , and he didn't want to push himself too hard and end up bedridden during the long weekend.

“Come on. I've got a surprise for you,” Jody said. She held her arm out like Dean had and Cas took it, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dean was following.

“Get the bags, Sammy,” Dean announced loftily, ignored the middle finger his brother sent his way. He hesitated when he saw Eileen, but she just smirked at him.

“Go on,” she pushed at his arm. “I'll make sure Sam doesn't break anything.”

On mostly reassured—Eileen hadn't been around long enough to become immune to Winchester Luck—Dean followed Jody and Cas to a bedroom just off the main central room of the cabin. “The other rooms are upstairs,” Jody was explaining, tugging back the blankets on the bed as she did. “It's probably more noisy down here, but we wanted to save you the stairs.”

“Thank you, Jody,” Cas sounded exhausted as he climbed into bed, letting the sheriff tug the blankets up to his shoulders. “This is...oh.”

Jody was grinning. She had her arms folded across her chest and a pleased expression on her face. “Early Christmas present. You like?”

Cas let out a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a groan and looked past Jody to Dean. “It's _warm_.”

“Heated mattress pad,” Jody explained. “Sure beats a half-dozen heating pads.”

Dean slipped a hand beneath the blankets and ran it along the warm mattress. “You're a genius.”

“Of course I am. Come on, let's let him rest.”

He hesitated, but Cas seemed content under the blankets and Jody was tugging on his arm, so he followed her out to the main room. “Okay, you and Cas are sharing, right?” she asked, moving back around the island that separated the kitchen from the main room.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean hesitated. “It's, uh...when he has a bad night it's better when someone's with him, so we just kind of planned it that way.”

“Look, kiddo, you don't have to explain anything to me,” Jody had pulled another towel out of a drawer and was gesturing at him. “You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, okay?”

He hesitated again and glanced at the door. Sam and Eileen were taking an awfully long time with the luggage, but maybe they were just enjoying some privacy before a big family weekend. “He, uh, he said some things. Before he died. And I just...I don't know how to handle it.”

Jody slung the towel over her shoulder, right on top of the first one she'd clearly forgotten about, and leaned toward him on the counter. “What kind of things?”

Dean wrapped his arms around himself and stared toward the door. Even after all this time it was still so real—the pain and loss from that moment, Cas's final words echoing in his head, the emptiness of the world that followed. “Like...feelings stuff.”

“Oh.” Jody walked around the island and tugged out one of the stools and sat on it, facing Dean. “Have you talked to your brother about it?”

“I don't know what to say. I haven't said anything...until now.”

Jody sucked in a breath. “Not even Castiel?”

“He was dead!” Dean scrubbed one hand through his hair, fighting the urge to turn away and hide his face. “He died, and I, I should have been able to figure things out then on my own, but then? Then we get the call that he's back but he's hurt, and-and he needs so much help now, and it just doesn't seem right.”

“Slow down, kiddo,” Jody caught one of his wrists and tugged him over, sliding another stool out for him to sit. “Walk me through this. What are you feeling now.”

“I don't know!” Dean let his elbow rest on the counter and buried his face in his hand. “He said this stuff and I didn't have any time to process it and he died...and now he's here but it's just so...it's not fair.”

Jody was rubbing his shoulder through his outburst, and leaned in close enough to wrap one arm around him. “What do you _want_ to do?”

“Nothing.” Dean wiped his face and pulled away, trying to pull himself back together. “I can't right now, Jody. I can't...I can't ask him to make some kind of, of choice like that right now. Not when...not when he needs us. Too many people have done that to him. If we...if we can get him back on his feet, back to where he's _able_ to walk away if he needs to...but not now.”

He hadn't realized he was crying again until Jody gently wiped a thumb across his cheek. “That really sucks, Dean.”

Dean managed a pathetic chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” He wasn't going to be one of those people who took advantage of Cas when Cas couldn't say no. Besides, Cas had to know that they'd still take care of him, even if there wasn't... _something_...there.

The door banged open, bringing in the cold wind and Sam loaded down with too many bags. “Finally,” Dean complained, spinning around on the stool. “What took you guys so long?”

Sam huffed and very pointedly dropped Dean's bag on the floor right in front of the door. “I'm taking the rest of this upstairs. Jody, which one's our room?”

“I'll show you,” Jody offered.

Dean looked past Sam to Eileen, who was loitering by the door. He raised his eyebrows in question and she held up her left hand with a shake of the head. Still no proposal.

Damn. What was taking that kid so long?

* * *

“Hey, buddy, you awake?” Dean crouched beside the bed, gently ruffling Cas's hair. The former angel stretched like a contented cat and blinked up at him.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Dean replied, grinning. “You look rested.”

“It's so _warm_.” Ever since his return, Cas had so much trouble just staying warm. Back at the bunker they practically kept a constant rotation of hot water bottles in play for him to tuck under his sweatshirt or to wrap in his blankets. So seeing him this comfortable and relaxed made something deep in Dean's heart unwind just a little.

“The girls are here. Wanna say hi? Get some dinner?”

Cas grunted and pushed the blankets back, twisting to get his feet under him. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them, but didn't seem to notice as he pushed himself up. “Claire's here?”

“First one in the door,” Dean replied. He held his arm out to steady Cas as they made their way through the bedroom to the main room. “She and Eileen are swapping werewolf stories.”

He helped Cas out of the room and gently lead him over to one of the stools at the counter. Jody—with a third towel now, on her other shoulder—was whisking up waffle batter in a big red bowl in the kitchen.

“Cas!” Claire pulled away from Eileen as soon as she saw the former angel. She hesitated for a second, but when he held an arm out to her she gladly went in for a hug. “You came!”

“Of course,” Cas replied. When Claire pulled away he seemed reluctant to release her, gently brushing her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “How are you?”

Claire shrugged. “Still kicking ass.”

“Hell yeah!” Dean announced, giving the kid a high-five.

Cas was smiling—it was a small, tired smile, but it was genuine. “Claire...your parents send their love.”

Claire froze. “You saw them?”

“I did some work in Heaven, before...anyway, they wanted you to know that they're proud of you.”

Claire's face went red, then white. “You _told_ them about me?”

Cas nodded. “Of course. They can't wait to meet Kaia.”

“Oh my god,” Claire moaned, burying her face in her hands.

“Hey,” Dean bumped her with his hip. “Pretty sure he's technically your step-brother now.”

She punched his arm. “Shut up, Dean!”

“No fighting,” Jody announced. “Patience, honey, did you find the wafflemaker?”

Patience reluctantly left her conversation with Sam—probably about SATs and college scholarships and Harvard or something—to help Jody lug an ancient Black & Decker monstrosity out of a box on the counter.

“Anyway,” Claire cleared her throat, neck still flushed with embarrassment. “You look good. I like this,” she added, trailing her fingers through Cas's hair. It was flecked with gray now. Sam thought it was from the trauma done on his vessel when his grace was burned out.

Cas leaned away from her touch, brushing his own hand over his hair self-consciously. “I'm not accustomed to my vessel's appearance changing.”

“Hey, I like the gray!” Jody piped in, gesturing to her own silvery pixie cut. “It's very...paternal.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Jody!” Dean snorted, earning him another punch from Claire. “Anyway, it's good.”

She probably meant that Cas didn't really look like Jimmy anymore. Pain and trauma had etched lines in his face and gray in his hair. As though sensing his train of thought Cas leaned into Dean, and Dean wrapped an arm behind his back.

Kaia joined them, slipping an arm around Claire's and resting her head on the blonde girl's shoulders. They moved to the side to whisper about something between themselves, and Dean could see Eileen and Sam talking to Alex near one of the couches in the main room.

“Where's Donna?” he asked.

“She'll be here in the morning,” Jody replied. “Spending Christmas Eve with her brother tonight.”

Cas shifted against Dean, and he moved his arm up. Sometimes touching the scars left by the sigils hurt. “So, T-minus what until waffles?”

Jody let out an exaggerated huff and tossed a fourth towel over her shoulder—same side as the first two. “Never if you don't get your butt in here and help out. We need fruit chopped and eggs scrambled, and for the love of god somebody get the bacon.”

Dean let out a laugh and pulled away from Cas, only for the former angel to grab his sleeve.

“Dean?”

His heart dropped. That was the voice...the pale, scared voice that meant something bad was happening. He managed to get his arms around Cas in time to cushion his fall to the ground, as Cas suddenly curled in on himself in a full-body spasm of pain.

Someone swore behind him—he thought it was Jody, but when she started calling Sam he realized it must have been Patience. Cas shuddered in his grasp, arms wrapped around himself tight enough to bruise.

“Back up, come on,” Sam was wading in, flapping his giant moose arms to move the girls away from the kitchen. Cas let out a moan and buried his face in Dean's shoulder, shame adding to the pain riding up and down his body.

“I've got you, Cas,” Dean murmured. He ran his hand up and down his friend's arm, as though he could physically hold him together. “It's gonna pass. It always passes. You'll be okay.”

Sam crouched in front of them, his sheer size blocking the rest of the room from view. “We're right here, Cas,” he added, one hand on Cas's knee.

Cas tried to curl further into Dean, as though seeking whatever comfort or warmth the hunter could offer. Dean closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the top of Cas's head—all they could do was reassure him, hold him where it wouldn't hurt, remind him he wasn't alone.

It wasn't fair. He'd been having such a good day.

“Right here, buddy,” Dean repeated. Cas was breathing in sharp, pained jerks, like even his lungs were spasming under the onslaught. “You're all right. We're not leaving.”

Finally... _finally_...the awful spasms slowed. Dean knew it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes, but it always felt like hours. Cas let out a moan and shifted away, awkwardly dragging up a hand to wipe at his eyes.

Dean's heart broke a little more.

“Sam?” Alex was standing behind Sam, a first-aide kit in her hands. “Can I check on him?”

“He's all right,” Dean tried to protest, but Sam had already backed away so the young woman could take his place. Alex gently picked up one of Cas's wrists to feel his pulse, then pulled a small penlight out to check his eyes.

“How long are his seizures usually?” she asked.

“Seizures?” Dean shook his head. “What are you talking about? That wasn't a seizure.”

“We did rounds with a neurosurgeon last semester,” Alex explained. “They don't always look like they do on TV. I'd have to looks some things up, but it looked like a seizure to me.”

For the first time since Cas had come back, Dean could see the thinnest thread of an answer. Seizures could be treated, right? It wasn't everything Cas was dealing with, but if they could stop these attacks...

“It was less than three minutes,” Alex was saying. “If Castiel normally recovers from them just fine he'll be okay, but maybe you should think about going to a neurologist.”

Dean nodded, looking back down at the man he was holding. Cas had let his head drop back to Dean's shoulder, closing his eyes in obvious exhaustion.

“Thanks, Alex,” Sam said, helping Dean struggle to his feet with Cas in his arms. “We'll check that out.”

* * *

“The world can end now. I'm never leaving this bed.” Dean wiggled his toes under the blankets, relaxing in the luxuriant warmth of Cas's new heated mattress pad. “Jody is a genius.”

Cas, for his part, was quiet. He was curled on his side, watching Dean. Last night had been one of the bad ones—they usually were, right after an attack like that. Nightmares and night terrors were par for the course for their line of work, but Cas had once confessed he sometimes woke up thinking he was still tied down to the altar. Even now, months later, he'd scream out in his sleep and try to claw his way out of the blankets.

When Dean was with him—or Sam or Eileen—it was easier to remember where he was.

“This was _my_ Christmas present, Dean,” he finally said after a few minutes.

“So? You can share.”

“Don't you want to see what Jody got you?”

That got Dean moving. He flipped the covers back and went for his bag, tossing clothes over his shoulder to the bed behind him. Cas got up more slowly, still stiff from the attack the night before. He was slowly pulling on a pair of baggy jeans and an oversized hooded sweatshirt when Dean turned back around, trying to tug on his jeans and henley at the same time.

“Come on,” Dean said, as soon as he was decent. Cas seemed steadier on his feet today, so he only needed a hand on Dean's shoulder for balance. “Sam might open everything without us.”

Sam hadn't, of course. And they'd had to wait for Donna, and then wait for breakfast (to Dean's relief, Jody had remembered to bring Cas-friendly food, and while the rest of them ate deliciously greasy hashbrown casserole Cas actually managed a full plate of cottage cheese and fruit).

Then there was the battle. Chucking balled-up wrapping paper at Claire every time she made a sassy comment, making Sam wear the Santa hat to actually hand out the gifts. Donna had given Cas a big, fleece blanket in a blue that almost matched his old tie, and he'd immediately wrapped himself up in it and dozed off in his armchair.

Dean had kept an eye on his brother throughout the morning. Christmas was the perfect chance to propose, right? It was the shit Hallmark movies were made of. But Sam just stood there, seven shades of awkward, one hand jammed in his pocket and his big moose eyes all sad and wistful.

“For the love of...” Dean grumbled. He shoved himself up to his feet—maybe it was time to stop sitting on the floor—and caught Eileen's hand as she passed by. He sank down to one knee, looking up at her seriously. “Eileen. You've probably been the best thing that's happened to my brother in his entire life. So I'm asking for him...will you marry Sam?”

There was a squeal from one of the girls, an enraged shout from Sam, and the click of Donna's camera. Eileen laughed at him, twisting her fingers through his, and looked over to Sam. “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> No, Dean isn't good with his feelings, but he'll meddle with Sam's just fine.
> 
> That's actually a horrible thing to do to your little brother, never propose for someone.
> 
> I did have this long-term plan, where Dean is putting off any conversation about feelings, or "I love you" moments, or anything like that because Cas isn't strong enough to walk away if he needs. The last thing he wants is Cas thinking he HAS to be in a relationship with Dean or he'll be out on the street--or that Dean would only take care of him because he wants something in return. Dean is shoving that all down to focus on taking care of Cas. And because he's Dean Winchester and allergic to talking about things, but Jody can out-mom anyone.
> 
> Anyway, that's the end! I hope you enjoyed these twelve days of stories!


End file.
